


Sorting Day Stereotypes

by TSturmRS (TS13)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Harry Potter References, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TS13/pseuds/TSturmRS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick short story about Slytherins on Sorting Day at Hogwarts, somewhere around six years after DH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorting Day Stereotypes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything on any fanfiction site so like..yeah. Please comment. Positivity welcome, constructive criticism welcome. There are a couple places where I had italics in the original formatting to represent sarcasm so I apologize in advance, but I can't seem to figure out how to make them on this site (or even if you can). 
> 
> I've got lots of OCs, stories, (and even a long modern era, American-based wizarding world story) on my phone, I just have always been too nervous to post any of it anywhere. Thanks and thanks for reading!

Alexander Archer was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, watching the first-years be sorted into their respective houses from his usual seat in the Great Hall.  
Unlike most of the students in the Great Hall, however, he absolutely hated the first day of the new term – or “Sorting Day” as some would call it.  
Why?  
Because every time one of these excited and nervous children were sorted into his house, all the excitement of going to Hogwarts left their faces as if they had been handed a death sentence.  
Slytherin had always had a reputation problem – probably due to the fact that every Dark Wizard has been in Slytherin – and that reputation had never bothered him. What did annoy him, however, was how young Slytherins were treated by the rest of the school. Like they were diseased. Or a time bomb.  
See, he remembered the Battle of Hogwarts differently than most of the other students.  
He was a first year when it happened, shooed to the dungeon with the rest of the Slytherins before the battle had even begun.  
Students trapped in the dungeon like cattle, scared for their lives, as well as those of their friends fighting in the war above. Hearing explosions and screams, all the while stuck underneath the school, and why? Prejudice? A couple students with parents involved?  
Most of all, however, he remembered how after the Battle of Hogwarts people had called them traitors and cowards.  
How he had seen people heartbroken at the loss of their loved ones have “where were you” shouted at them as they emerged from the rubble.  
And he never forgot.  
Alexander Archer smiled to himself.  
Maybe that’s what made him such a good student and Prefect.  
**********

 

Finally the sorting – and eating – finished, and he took up his usual position at the front of the Great Hall, waiting for the first-years to gather around him so he could take them to their new home for the next few years of their lives.  
His fellow Slytherin Prefect, Allie Bennett, a quiet, dark-skinned girl who was quite possibly the best potions student Hogwarts had seen since Hermione Granger, nudged him and pointed to the group of first-year Slytherins being led around the Great Hall.  
“There are not as many of them this year,” she remarked. “I wonder if it has to do with the period between the Wizarding Wars?”  
“Probably,” he replied, “Which means that the Prefects in about five years are going to have their work cut out for them…”  
Allie grinned mischievously, “And maybe then your Quidditch team won’t suck.”  
Okay, so maybe they finished last out of all the houses, but, come on, there was no way they could beat third-place Hufflepuff with that second-year at Keeper who looked like he was 15-feet tall…  
“You know,” a playful voice interrupted from beside them, “It would probably be easier on the first-years, if the guy showing them around the castle didn’t look like a mandrake with hair.”  
A gorgeous, blonde-haired girl with dark brown eyes grinned at him, waiting for his response. Emily Ware was one of the Prefects for Ravenclaw, and genuinely one of the nicest people at Hogwarts. He had met Emily as a third-year, when he needed help with transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had forced – more like threatened – him into seeing a tutor, and suggested Emily. He was finally able to not be completely awful at transfiguration, and they remained good friends. 

He forced down a smile and feigned like he could smell something odd in the air. “I didn’t know they allowed alcohol at these things..”  
She laughed and leaned closer to him, her voice lowering, “You know, I’ve actually got some in my room if you want to meet somewhere more private after we ditch these kids…”  
“Ahem.” A grumbling voice interrupted their flirting from behind.  
A husky, hobbit of a young man wearing a bright blue robe with achievement badges of every kind down each side was glaring at Alexander.  
Evan Marks was the other Ravenclaw Prefect, and quite possibly the most annoying person on Earth. He was the definition of pretentious, believing himself to be better than every other person at Hogwarts – and likely the planet. And he hated Alexander.  
“You know,” Evan pretentiously began, “Ditching these kids would be detrimental to their overall education of the history of this ancient castle.” He took a brief look at the now approaching gaggle of first-years, “And I’m sure a woman as beautiful as you would rather avoid spending time with this lot anyway.”  
The way Evan said this lot made Alexander angry. Sure, Slytherin had a bad reputation, but these kids had about as much to do with that as Evan had to do with Ravenclaw winning the Quidditch Cup.  
“You know,” Emily mocked, obviously annoyed at the comment on her looks, “Last time I checked, Alex had higher marks than you in history of magic.”  
“And charisma.” Allie quietly said under her breath, but loud enough for Evan to hear.  
It took everything in Alexander’s power to avoid bursting into laughter.  
Evan grumbled something under his breath and stormed off towards his group of students. Emily shot him a look – Sorry – as she reluctantly walked away with her annoying fellow Ravenclaw to tend to her duties as Prefect.  
He turned back towards Allie to realize that the first-year Slytherins had been present for the entire exchange with Evan.  
Great first impression, genius.  
“So,” he said smiling nervously, “Follow me to your rooms.”  
********

 

The ascent to the dungeons had always felt creepy to him. He wasn’t comfortable underground. It was restricting, suffocating. The ascent was even more uncomforting, as you saw some of the inner workings of the castle on the way down.  
He couldn’t imagine what these first-years – these kids – are thinking.  
But man, were they in for a surprise.  
Allie opened the first chamber and ushered the first-years into the enormous empty room. Water dripped from leaky pipes on the ceiling, and the entire room creaked as if it could fall apart any minute.  
“Ah, dim lighting, concrete walls, and freezing, damp air,” Allie announced coldly. “Home Sweet Home.”  
The entire group was instantly quiet, as the implications of her words sank in.  
After a few seconds of silence – long enough for a few of the first-years to believe they were actually about to live in a dungeon for the next seven years – Allie clapped her hands and let out a warm laugh. “That joke never gets old.”  
She raised her wand and slashed a large “S” on the side of the south wall – the designers thought they were clever with all the S’s – and the concrete slabs melted away into an opening, which she walked through, encouraging the first-years to follow her.  
There were audible gasps from some of the new students, as they stepped out of the foreboding dungeon and into what looked like a luxury mansion made from marble.  
Spiral staircases marked either side of the lobby leading to both boys and girls dorms, a library, a study room, a tennis court, just about anything you can think of. One of the fifth-years swears he was hungry one night and ended up in a bakery in Queens, New York, but Alexander had yet to be taken anywhere outside the castle.  
There was also an enchantment to make it look like the staircases never ended, but as soon as you set foot on them, the illusion faded, and it would lead to where you wanted to go. Alexander always liked that aspect of the common room, because you never ended up in the wrong place. 

A gargantuan fountain sat in the center of the room, with couches, tables and chairs arraigned in whatever alignment prior students had left them in. Two snakes intertwined with water shooting from their mouths into a large S-shaped pool of emerald liquid at the middle of the fountain.  
The first-years would think the water changing colors was some ancient magic, but a few years ago some geniuses thought it would be a good idea to experiment with some food-dye, and accidently cursed the S-pool into changing all water within its borders emerald.  
It was a nice touch, but really excessively extravagant in Alexander’s opinion. Oh look, everything is green or a snake. Pretty sure the “S” in Slytherin stands for “showy.”  
Confident that the new Slytherins had gotten over their initial awe at their new home, Alexander stepped through the opening. “What, you think Slytherin, home to some of the oldest pureblood families in Europe would let you live in a dungeon?”  
The gaggle of students erupted into conversation, their nerves finally boiling over.  
“Okay, okay,” he shouted above the noise, “Go get yourself acquainted with your rooms, roommates and whatever else, and then meet back down here in an hour for any questions you might have for us. Boys on the right, girls on the left.”  
Allie quickly spotted one of the first-years that looked unsure about where to go. “Oh, that reminds me! The enchantments adapt to you, not the other way around. So if you’re transgender, gender-fluid or anything else, the staircase will take you to the right place based on whatever you identify as.” The new student smiled gratefully and headed towards the staircase.  
“And she means anything you identify as!” He shouted to the first-years as they headed up the stairs. “See, Allie identifies as a manticore.”  
Allie shoved him out of the way and shouted up the stairs in return, “He thinks he’s funny. Just smile and nod and he’ll go away.”  
She turned to him, feigning anger. “I’m surprised your staircase doesn’t just lead directly to Hell.”  
He laughed and embraced his friend. “You think I can’t see the pincers, but I do.”  
****************

Alexander pulled a couch in front of the fountain and turned it to face the other tables, chairs and couches in the lobby of the common room which were full of first-years. Allie sat down beside him, having just finished her vigorously rehearsed monologue about how becoming a Slytherin was like gaining a second family.  
“Any questions?” She repeated for the third time. Once again, this was met by silence.  
“Any and all questions are welcome. We’ll answer absolutely anything.” He confirmed to the nervous onlookers.  
A blonde boy in the front spoke first. “So Slytherin is the most pure and noble house of the four?”  
Dammit. First question.  
“No. Getting picked by a hat doesn’t make you better than anyone else.” Allie stated firmly.  
“But my father said that-” He interjected, but Alexander cut him off.  
“What your parents say, matters little here. You make your own decisions. You make your own choices. This is the start of your journey to becoming a great Witch or Wizard, not theirs.”  
Allie nodded in approval, but Alexander felt his words were a little harsh, so he tried to soften them a bit.  
“Look, all of you are the future. The future of Hogwarts, the future of the Wizarding World, the future of Slytherin. Everything you do will reflect on every other person in this room. Just as everything Voldemort did reflects on us. Remember that.”  
The boy nodded and sat back down, but the question – thanks to his accidental name drop – was quickly proceeded by another along the same lines. 

A girl with snow white hair spoke out, “Is it true that every Dark Wizard was once a member of Slytherin?”  
“I’m going to let Allie handle this one.” Alexander said, and the whole room shifted its attention her way.  
Allie kept her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “It is true that every great Dark Wizard was in Slytherin. Yes.” A sudden quiet gripped the first-years, and Alexander tried very hard not to put an arm around his friend. “But the Death Eater who killed my older brother was in Gryffindor. And the one who killed my Aunt was a Hufflepuff.” She raised her eyes to meet the crowd. “People choose to be evil, and evil has no house.”  
“So any comments or suggestions?” Alexander cut in, hoping to break the awkward silence which had seemingly permanently attached itself to the crowd.  
A small dark-haired girl from the back raised her arm. “I have a comment, and I have a suggestion.”  
“Sure, what’s your comment?” Allie said, still a little bit off from her earlier confession.  
The girl grinned proudly. “I think I’m going to like being a Slytherin.”  
A murmur of approval rippled through the small crowd of first-years with a couple “me toos!” shouted here and there, and Alexander felt the warm sensation of pride well up in his chest.  
“Wait!” The young girl spoke again over the noise, “But my suggestion is for Alexander.”  
The crowd became quiet once again. “Go ahead.” Allie repeated politely.  
Oh, no. He thought. What did I do wrong?  
She took in a deep breath and composed herself, before replying  
“I think it’s okay for you to ditch us and go meet that Ravenclaw girl now.”

 

THE END


End file.
